never did run smooth
by Jedi Buttercup
Summary: It had initially struck him as poetic that the means of finally finding his son would come at the hands of a woman saving her own. But he was as far from Bae in that moment as he ever had been back in the Forest.


**Title**: never did run smooth

**Author**: Jedi Buttercup

**Rating**: T

**Disclaimer**: The words are mine; the worlds are not.

**Summary**: _It had initially struck him as poetic that the means of finally finding his son would come at the hands of a woman saving her own. But he was as far from Bae in that moment as he ever had been back in the Forest, trapped on the other side of a barrier he could not cross._ 1300 words.

**Spoilers**: Post-S1 for Once Upon a Time

**Notes**: For raspberryhunter, for Day 23 in Wishlist 2012, for the prompt of Emma-Gold (doesn't need to be a pairing, doesn't need to be season-2 compliant). "Honesty isn't the best colour on Mr. Gold". First posted to LJ Dec 1, 2013.

* * *

It had been such a beautifully clever plan. The work of centuries: a great curse wrought to bring the people of the Enchanted Forest to Storybrooke, engineered like a vast and intricate machine of exacting design. An interlocking tapestry woven of countless smaller magics, cost and benefit carefully counterbalanced every step of the way, tucked into and camouflaged by and ultimately countering the work of his most powerful students. All ultimately building up to one thing: a means to reach his son.

What a fool he'd been. Bit by bit, bargain by deal, he had indeed built a working greater than the sum of its parts: a curse infused with a drop of true love potion, engineered to break at the kiss of true love, delivered by true love's product, finally compounded by the release of magic _fueled_ by true love into a world that had none. But all magic had a price- one not always owed by its caster. And true love was the most powerful magic in existence.

Rumplestiltskin tightened his grip on the handle of his cane, staring out past the inane orange stripe someone had painted across the pavement, and wondered what other charges might come due now that time had unfrozen in this trap of his design. He'd meant it to be temporary, a mere stepping stone on the path to reuniting with Baelfire... but like every other advantage he'd managed to lay his hands on over the years, it had come with a built-in poison lining, concealed until it was too late to turn back.

Trying to start over with his father. Escaping the Ogre Wars. Seizing the Dark One's dagger. His first, bright apprentice. His own true love's kiss. And now the failsafe to the curse, backfiring on him. Had he engineered it improperly from the start? Was it Miss Swan's doing- should he have ensured the Huntsman's survival in the hope of sparking a second generation of romantic true love, rather than trusting in maternal devotion to do the job? Or- as he feared- was it the loosing of the magic that had caused the problem? It seemed he was doomed to forever choose power over love.

It had initially struck him as poetic that the means of finally finding his son would come at the hands of a woman saving her own. But he was as far from Bae in that moment as he ever had been back in the Forest, trapped on the other side of a barrier he could not cross. He sighed, mouth twisted in frustration, and resisted the urge to turn and smash his cane against the hood of his car. A temper tantrum wouldn't help, here- not with Miss Swan watching.

"So," she said pensively, strolling up next to him with her arms crossed over her red leather jacket. "You look a little under the weather, Gold. Something got you down?"

Rumplestitlskin shot her a narrow-eyed glance. "Just a slight attack of honesty with myself," he said. "Don't worry. It'll pass."

"Mmm. Never thought I'd say this- but honesty's not the best color on you," she replied with a snort. "A little... green around the edges, there."

Clearly, she'd been speaking with the others- or, perhaps, finally reading the book. Pity it didn't seem to have given her any more respect for him. "I've _always_ been truthful with you, dearie. Though I admit I may have... occasionally been very careful with the words I chose."

"Depends on your point of view, huh?" she said, scraping at the line of paint with the toe of her boot. "So when you said it was _my_ lucky day that you'd saved that potion?" she asked pointedly.

"I may have been more accurate than was my intention," he admitted, dryly.

"Thought so." She fell quiet then, staring out with him at the world that had been hers before Henry found her. The Savior, superfluous now that she'd performed her role: but no less a power in their insular little world than Regina, or Charming and Snow, or any of the others whose lives he'd shaped over the years. They _all_ remembered him, now- and he was trapped there with them. Another worry for the future: that their fixation on the Evil Queen could not last forever.

"I talked to, uh, your Belle," Emma finally said, as the silence began to draw out.

Of course she had. "Feeling sympathetic for the monster now, are we?"

"Hardly." He could practically hear her roll her eyes. "Just wondering what's out there that's so important it could make you turn your back on true love. I mean, everyone keeps telling me it's the most powerful force there is, and it sounds like the guy that broke Belle out and sent her to find you kind of expected you to go crazy on Regina for her. So what gives? Why are you _here_?"

Sometimes it was easy to forget that the Savior had spent her life before Storybrooke seeking and finding that which was hidden; and then she would go and strike with precision at precisely the weakest point.

Magic didn't work the same in their new world... but Emma had proven that true love remained just as potent in any realm. Yet when Belle's memories had been restored, and she'd run to greet him, _he'd_ remained exactly as he was. It had been a relief on one level- he certainly hadn't _planned_ to give up the dagger just yet- but on another, a fury he found it difficult to quantify. Her loss had been such a part of him for so long, compounding Bae's; but now that he'd discovered he bore neither the guilt for her death, nor the responsibility of being her destined match... what was he supposed to do with that knowledge?

"Weren't you here for your father's touching speech when he turned everyone back short of the line?" He turned and raised an eyebrow at her. "The answer's in the question, Miss Swan."

She showed the same perceptiveness again, gaze sharpening on him as she glanced down at his suit, his cane, his entirely normal eyes and fingernails and other quite human attributes. "You're both now, too."

"Have been since you arrived here, actually. A condition Belle does not share, I'm afraid," he added. Rumplestiltskin may have been Belle's true love; but it seemed that the hybrid of Rumplestiltskin and Mr. Gold was another animal altogether. Another cost of the curse he'd never anticipated.

He'd been very tempted to call a Wraith down on Regina; to punish her for what she'd done to Belle. But what would have been the use? He knew quite well that he'd trapped himself in his own machinations, once again. And it wasn't worth incurring the wrath of the town's goody-goody restored royalty until he'd devised a foolproof means of scheming his way back out of them; they were just as likely to turn on him for engineering her death as they were to cheer it on.

"Sucks to be you," Emma said bluntly. "So what are you planning to do about it?"

"What makes you think I'll tell you?" he replied, shrugging.

"Oh, that pointed reminder earlier about the favor I owe you, maybe?"

He sighed and raised an eyebrow at her. Enough of this. "All in good time. Now run along, dearie; your beloved parents are no doubt wondering where you are by now, dying to show you off to all their reclaimed subjects."

She actually shuddered at that; and Rumplestiltskin allowed a wry smile, feeling a little better about it all. He might have destroyed his own happy ending, but he was not the only one adrift without firm footing in this situation.

The Savior might be of some use to him, yet.

-x-


End file.
